


A Less-than-Subtle Knife

by Red



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Blink is a Matchmaker, Canon Disabled Character, Charles is a Professor, Kitty's life is hard, Multi, Panserbjørne, Teacher Erik, Time Travel, annoying dragons, canon compliant alternate universes, even if he doesn't think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blink and Shadowcat have a good thing going with this weekly save-the-universe gig. </p><p>It's just that some universes are a little more... interesting... than others. </p><p>AKA: the HDM crossover I was putting off for four years, and blame DOFP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Less-than-Subtle Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Blaming jadieladie for a silly-joke-based title, and also thanking her for the beta job. <3 
> 
> See end notes for daemon clarifications.

The first they’d figured it out, it wasn’t really them. 

Well, it was. Sort of. Matters get confusing enough when it’s just timestreams you’re messing around with, but when you factor in the “alternate universes” part things get messy quick.

The Clarice and Kitty that _did_ weren’t even the first beings to cut through to their particular point in space-time. The three advanced sentinels that just sort of showed up on the basketball court, to the general dismay of everyone (but particularly Logan who was, quote, getting too old for this shit), those _were_.

Luckily, those were dispatched easily enough with no injuries sustained, since it was mid-winter and not really basketball season, and Mr. Lensherr would wake up if so much as a mouse appeared on school grounds. Long story short, no one was standing on a snow-covered court with a metal hangar underneath. 

So there wasn’t too much fanfare about _those_. But the Kitty and Clarice that phased through after, they needed some help in a few alternate past dimensions closing up the holes left by sentinels that had, at some point, absorbed a few of their _other_ alternate selves. 

The whole multiple-selves thing would be far more confusing if they didn’t go to school with a guy who was just all multiple selves. The universe shift thing would be more disorienting, if their timeline’s Blink hadn’t actually just cut herself through from some other dimension to theirs. 

But as it is?

In the end, that first mission wound up being fairly straightforward, even with that first painful stomach-jerk slide of a knife of Clarice’s power shooting through the web of Kitty’s. It all panned out smooth enough. 

Their second, though. They had sensed another timeline where the sentinels were close enough to cutting through to their own, and that trip was a little more… hectic. 

By the third, which was at once nearly fatal and probably not entirely necessary to the continued survival of their particular thread in space-time, Professor made them swear up and down they wouldn’t go on another two-woman alternate universe rescue mission without consulting someone over the age of thirty. 

They got his point. Still, after a few months, they figured out that particular rule wasn’t so bad. Nine times out of ten, you corner Logan anytime before noon, he’ll just say “uh-huh” and “sure kid” and you can get pretty far into a past timeline before he ever realizes what happened. Sure, whenever they get back, it’s all “be more responsible” or “we expected better from you” or just some judgy sardonic look from either Mr. Lensherr or the Professor, but the thing is--

The thing is, it gets hard to take those two seriously, the more they do this.

The more they do this, the more obvious it becomes.  
In each and every timeline they’ve found, one fact holds true: the Professor and Mr. Lensherr are a hot mess that almost invariably results in giant killer robots.

It doesn’t even matter what the universe _is_. Last month, they phased unexpectedly into the Spanish Inquisition, and those two had managed to make sentinels happen _then_. After a while, Kitty and Clarice’s shared hobby of saving timelines becomes half alternate-universe tourism and half matchmaking. Kitty has no illusions on which they each are in this for. She loves the adventure of it: new worlds, new places, the danger. 

And Blink? 

Sometimes, Kitty thinks Clarice is wasted on the X-Men. Really, she’d never seen a better marriage counselor, even in the most… unusual... of circumstances. 

Like right now. 

Clarice is giving a predictably strung-out “I’m-not-a-professor” Professor Xavier the usual speech, which to be fair, they’ve perfected by now. And she’s thus far shown no sign at all of this being any much different than any other mission.

It’s just. Kitty looks again between the Professor and Blink, and the _immaterial animals_ that are apparently their souls or something on this planet. Blink’s taking this all in stride, like it’s no big thing be hanging out all day with a talking dragonfly, and that it’s okay to have a giant black (and possibly strung-out) _cat_ giving them the whole watery eyes routine along with. 

Even worse, this Professor seems to be buying the “time travel” part. He keeps insinuating stuff about interdimensional artifacts and rifts in the fabric of the universe and dust or something. It’s just weird. Weirder than usual, anyway, and Kitty is left feeling like she hasn’t recovered from the jump and that she won’t, ever. 

Still, if she’s being entirely honest with herself, that’s less the nausea and more the giant weight hanging off her back. 

“Seriously, I don’t know what you got against me,” it whispers. 

“Shh,” Kitty hisses, because she wants to at least _pretend_ she’s paying attention to the bit about breaking Magneto out of whatever prison they have here on Animal Planet. Clarice’s dragonfly isn’t this talkative, and neither’s that weird staring cat, and come to think of it--

“I mean, what’d I ever--” 

“You’re named after a defense contractor!” she interrupts, and of course Professor X and Blink turn and stare. 

At her, and this housecat-sized _dragon_. 

She’s seen lizards and cats and birds and all sorts of things hanging off every last person in this universe, but no, everyone’s always staring at Kitty like she’s the strange one with this… chatty purple thing that looks deceptively huge when it’s always riding piggyback on her small frame. 

“Uh,” she says, shooting a glare at the dragon. “Sorry. Anyway, we don’t have long here,” or so she hopes, at least, “so where do we find Magneto?” 

Professor glances between her and--ugh, seriously, how is it his name?-- _Lockheed_. 

“Hmm. You two have intriguing stories--and daemons--but I don’t know any Magneto.” 

It happens that way, some timelines--Mr. Lensherr never goes The Full Magneto, or Raven never makes up the name and he’s prancing about in a cape, going by something even worse--so at least Kitty feels like she can catch up with the conversation. 

“That’s what he was calling himself in our universe,” Clarice explains, and Kitty continues. 

“Sometimes, he’ll have another name, too, but you might know him as Erik Lensherr?”

The cat by Professor puffs up, like it’s startled, but Professor just raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know any Lensherr, either. Now, if you’re both done--”

“Max? Magnus? Or Erik something-else,” she says, trying out all the usual names. “He’d have worked with you, maybe ten years ago, and you had some sort of falling out that--”

The cat stands, hackles raised. It’s big for a housecat; easily larger than Lockheed. “Erik Jakobson,” it--she, Kitty guesses from the voice--growls. Professor Xavier puts a hand on her back. 

“We are not rescuing _him_ ,” he says, “That bear is a monster.” 

Which would be the usual line except. 

Uh.

 _Bear_?

Clarice’s dragonfly flutters his wings briefly as Kitty grabs at her sleeve. 

“Okay. Let me consult my associate,” Kitty blurts out, tugging Clarice aside so they can stand out of earshot. At least this is yet another not-telepathic Charles Xavier. 

“What?” Clarice whispers, “I’ve got this.” 

“You’ve got this? He said bear, and I don’t think he’s talking,” Kitty waves her hand in a way that she hopes also means ‘big, hairy, and gay’ on whatever planet Blink’s from, “you know, _bear_. He’s talking about a _bear_ bear. Mr. Lensherr--”

“Jakobson,” the dragonfly corrects.

“--Thanks, all right, Mr. Jakobson is a _bear_! Clarice, you can _not_ play matchmaker, not between Professor and a _bear_.” 

“Well, presumably Erik’s still sentient,” Clarice replies. “Assuming he can communicate, and that they’re both consenting adult creatures, I can’t see a problem. How’s it any different than that time you and Rahne--” 

“Yeah, okay, I got the picture,” Kitty says, rolling her eyes. Geez, fool around with a werewolf once, you won’t ever hear the end of it. She glances back at the Professor, who is preoccupied with something that looks an awful lot like a bong while the cat watches them. 

She lets Blink’s sleeve go, and steps back toward the Professor. 

“This Erik Jakobson,” Clarice says, “whatever your differences, we’ll need him to stop the sentinels from developing in your world.” 

Professor takes a long inhalation of what Kitty is just going to pretend isn’t alternate-universe pot. She’s seen enough drug use out of Xaviers that she should be used to it, but she’s taken to just trying to wipe it from her memory so she doesn’t have to see the look on her Professor X’s face when he realizes how many times she’s seen him high off his gourd. 

“You’re mad,” the cat says to herself. “Even if we wanted to--you know where he is, right?” 

This universe has already involved more hot air balloon rides and crash course lessons in historical geography than even Kitty knows how to deal with, and they’ve only been here a day. She isn’t going to venture a guess. 

“Where?” Lockheed asks, because apparently weird-animal-to-weird-animal talk is the custom. 

The cat seems to smirk, and looks up at Professor Xavier. 

He exhales in a coughing laugh. 

“Vilhjalmur Island,” he says, like that means anything to anyone in the room besides him and a cat. “Where he belongs.” 

Predictably, though, Blink talks him into it. What follows--a zeppelin ride, more hot air balloons, stowing away on a canning vessel, and riding Pietro like a very large and incredibly carnivorous horse because he is (perhaps predictably) _also_ a talking bear--is an adventure so surreal and ridiculous and _freezing_ that Kitty just hopes the next universe is tropical. By the time all’s said and done, though, they’ve saved Erik and broke into all the right experimental substations and met up with Raven--who is neither a bear and nor blue, the latter of which isn’t for lack of trying, because she wears awful little for a woman who rides a broom in arctic conditions--and they’ve even managed to get Charles to accept her as an adult woman who can, hello, ride a broom. 

The Erik in this universe doesn’t even try to shoot Raven once. 

But, then again. _Bear_.

When it comes time to leave, Kitty can’t say she’s entirely sorry to go. Blink keeps pretending she’s fascinated by the act carving another rock into another stupid dodecahedron, which is pretty much Clarice for “trying not to cry over idiots.” Professor X has his hands wended into the thick white fur of Erik’s neck, slung carefully astride; they’d not brought a tundra-grade wheelchair, and their sled exploded back at the base. 

Erik’s sitting on his haunches, shrouding that black cat with his massive front paws. 

It is _not_ romantic, Kitty thinks. Not at all. 

_Think of the details_ , she wants to tell Clarice. _This is nothing like werewolf makeouts_. 

“Well, I guess you guys have it from here,” she says instead. 

“Yes,” Erik replies. He doesn’t say thanks, even after they smuggled him off a remote island and broke his ugly bear helmet out of a military installation. Typical. “We’ll keep vigilant.” 

The Professor, though, he has better manners. He gives Erik a pat, and the bear grumbles and lumbers heavily towards them. Charles reaches down to clasp their hands, each in turn. 

“We _do_ thank you,” he says. “And I’m glad you had time to get accustomed to your fascinating daemon.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Kitty says. 

She’ll be so glad to be rid of him. No pestering, no hauling him around, no purple always in her peripheral vision, and she’ll finally not be at the verge of losing her feet to frostbite. She’s so excited to get back to the mansion this time that she doesn’t even mind the queasy tug of pulling back through. 

When they land, it’s late afternoon. It works that way, usually--most universes, time locks at a strangely consistent day-to-hour ratio. Kitty’s back sitting on her bed, her hands still outstretched, and Blink’s leaning against the dresser, staring at her. 

Kitty stretches, cracks her knuckles. At least it seems no one decided to pop in for a visit. Last time Illyana did that, she ratted them out to Piotr who ratted them out to Wanda who ratted them out to Mr. Lensherr in a giant game of narc telephone. The Professor wound up overhearing everything by the third call. 

She leans back, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“That was fun,” she deadpans. She wonders what next week will bring. 

Maybe they could just skip right to Cuba. Cuba’s warm. 

Blink’s still staring. 

Rubbing her face, quickly, Kitty wonders if she got a nosebleed from the power surge of jumping back--it’s happened before--but there’s nothing, and Blink shakes her head and makes a “behind you” gesture. 

Kitty turns, dread heavy in her stomach.

“Anyway,” he says, grinning at her toothily. “I’ll have you know, Lockheed’s a family name.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory daemon notes: 
> 
> Blink's daemon played by the lovely [globe skimmer](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/be/Wandering_Glider_\(Pantala_flavescens\)_W_IMG_2670.jpg)/wandering glider ( _Plantana flavescens_ ).
> 
> Charles's daemon played by the real variation of those questionably real "Scottish big cats" you see on crypto shows, the [Kellas cat](http://scotcats.online.fr/abc/identification/kellascataron.html). 
> 
> Lockheed played by himself. 
> 
> Panserbjørne, of course, don't have daemons. Their souls are their [heaps of metal armor](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWlu_WKiRBQ/UjNs_vewT-I/AAAAAAAAABU/Py5WB0St3jw/s1600/the-golden-compass-1920-1080-7582.jpg). Therefore, Erik's helmet is also played by itself.


End file.
